


Eyes

by Mistflyer1102



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-06
Updated: 2013-10-06
Packaged: 2017-12-28 13:55:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/992741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistflyer1102/pseuds/Mistflyer1102
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it takes a little shift of perspective to heal wounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eyes

_I shouldn’t be here because I don’t deserve this_.

The room on the other side of the door was eerily silent.  There was no one else in the anteroom except for him and his five-year old daughter, Olivia, who was humming to herself as she played with her foam blocks. Michael Phillips silently watched her though, trying not to think of every shortcoming he’d experienced in the last two years.  Which is to say, there were many.

“Daddy?”

He looked up to see Olivia watching him.  “What is it, Livvy?” he asked, using the nickname that her mother gave her and that her stepmother used now. 

“Is my baby brother here yet?” she asked anxiously.

He shook his head.  “Not until the nurse comes, remember?  She was the lady who gave you the lollipop when we got here,” he explained patiently.

“Oh, okay.” Olivia glanced at the door, and then went back to her foam blocks.

Michael rested his face in his hands, wondering why his wife, Sarah wanted him there.  He understood the blanket explanation—she wanted his support, wanted him to be there for her first (his second) child—but they both knew he’d been a horrible husband, ignoring her as he worked to support the three (now four) of them.  He had never intended for her to become pregnant, not after what happened to his first wife, but it had happened, and instead of supporting her emotionally, he’d barely been there for her.

 _I shouldn’t be here because I don’t deserve this_.

Swallowing the guilt, he still remembered the tumultuous summer where he’d learned that his father had finally died after years of silence between the two.  A man that Michael had never known well, Ryan Phillips had stubbornly remained in Ashland, Wisconsin from the day they moved there to the day he died.  Michael still remembered the horrible fights the two had during Michael’s last eight years in the house, culminating in Michael calling his father a coward.  Michael had wanted to join the army, Ryan had flatly disagreed, and Michael finally snapped after years of his own father’s harsh attitude and called him a coward and saying that he would have never been able to step up and serve the country even if it had needed him.

Ryan had abruptly retreated, quietly asking that Michael never return, an order that Michael had gladly followed.  Then, after the older man’s death, Michael learned that his father had been a pacifist, going as far as to dodge the draft during the Vietnam years and return to the United States only when President Johnson pardoned the dodgers, but not the deserters.

Sarah, the angel she was, had gently taken his hand and guided him through the ensuing guilt and recovery, even agreeing to head up to Chicago to see his father’s childhood home.  Along the way, they met a woman, Tiffany Walker, who had known Ryan in university.  The trip overall hadn’t eased Michael’s fears about being as horrible of a parent as his father had been, but it did ease the guilt and pain that built up over the years of silence.  It had also enabled him to take the first steps to repairing his relationship with Sarah, starting with giving more attention to her.  It had been a gradual process so far, with her contractions being the only thing that stuttered the healing to a halt.  Simply because he panicked.

_I shouldn’t be here because I don’t deserve this._

Sarah knew about his first wife, Monica.  She just didn’t know how the other woman died, and Michael was fine with that.  It hadn’t been anything extraordinary, just an illness she’d contracted in the last month of pregnancy, and couldn’t shake after giving birth to Olivia.  It had been terrifying, to see the life slowly draining from her eyes as he struggled to take care of both her and Olivia.  Sarah didn’t deserve such a fate, not after she agreed to marry and help raise Olivia together with him.  Sarah didn’t deserve this.  She deserved so much more than a broken single father and his daughter, deserved to continue pursing her career and taking to the sky instead of remaining tied down to earth.

“Mr. Phillips?”

He looked up to find the nurse waiting expectantly.  “Sarah wants to see you,” she said, smiling softly.

“Can I see Mama?” Olivia said, jumping up faster before Michael could stop her.

“Not yet, sweetie.  Mama wants to see Daddy first, okay?” the nurse said, smiling as Olivia looked horribly disappointed.  “I can watch her for you, if you’d like, Mr. Phillips,” she offered, turning to look at Michael.

“Of course, thank you,” he said, standing up and dusting his jeans off before glancing at Olivia.  “Behave yourself, and then you can go in and see your new brother or sister,” he said, brow furrowing slightly as he tried to remain firm.

“I _know_ it’s going to be a boy because I do,” Olivia said, scrunching her face the same way Sarah did when she was confused.

Michael merely raised his hands in faux surrender before moving into the indicated room, quietly shutting the door behind him.  Then, taking a deep breath, he looked up at Sarah.

And smiled softly when he saw her.

Somehow, even though she was tired and her hair was dark and plastered to her face with sweat, she still looked as beautiful as the day they crossed paths for the first time in Central Park.  She’d been wearing soft blue then too, a flowing outfit that went down to her knees with little flowers on the skirts and a white blouse.  Michael stood there for a moment, staring at her and finding, to his surprise, that he was only falling deeper in love all over again. 

And she wasn’t alone on the bed.

She held a bundle of pink blankets to her breast, a little wrinkled hand splayed against the flushed skin.  He could hear soft whimpers coming from the folds, and then she seemed to notice him standing there.  She looked up, watching him carefully for a moment.  Then she gestured with her head to step closer.

He hesitated, suddenly unsure again as he remembered the last few weeks.  The months before their reconciliation.  The days after she found out she was pregnant.  _Did he really deserve the happiness he could see in her eyes?_

“Michael, please,” she whispered, the two words breaking his hesitation.

Warily, he stepped up to the bedside, well aware that he hadn’t done this in years.  He watched her as opposed to the baby, waiting for the first signal from her that was an order to leave the room. 

“Here, take her,” Sarah offered quietly, shifting the bundle in her arms so that it was closer to him as he sat down in the plastic chair at the bedside.

He hesitated, and then gently took the bundle, arms shifting into the once-forgotten position to cradle the child.  He remained absolutely still, taking in the scent of fresh powder and soap as he balanced the warm, light weight against his arms, looking down at his newborn daughter.  He swallowed thickly, long forgotten emotions resurfacing tenfold as the baby let out a soft whimper, tiny fingers curling into air as she reached for something that wasn’t there.  He blinked, trying to hold back the guilt of his failings as a husband and a father as the baby finally opened her eyes and looked back up at him. 

_God, she has Sarah’s eyes._

“Michael?”

He looked up to see a blurry Sarah looking confused, sad and hopeful all at once.  “Come here,” she said softly, reaching over and wrapping a gentle hand around his neck.  He obligingly leaned forward and kissed her as deeply as he could in the position he was in, for once not pretending that he was crying.

“Oh God, Sarah, I am so sorry, I’m so sorry,” he whispered as they parted, resting foreheads together.  “I’m-”

“It’s okay, Michael.  I’ll be fine, we’re going to be a good family and you are going to be a wonderful father,” she said, softly running her fingers down the side of his face.  “To both Olivia and the baby, you will be wonderful.”

“But-”

“Shh.” She placed a finger over his mouth.  “You. Will. Be. _Fine,”_ she said before leaning in and kissing him softly again.

“Wuh…wuh…”

“Here, I can take her,” Sarah said, smiling reassuringly as the two parted, the baby growing fussy in her arms.  “I was thinking that perhaps Olivia would like to help us name her, so I waited,” she admitted, looking a little embarrassed. 

Michael nodded, wiping his face with his shirtsleeve.  “No, no, that’s a good idea,” he said before getting up to go get Olivia, Sarah reclining back in the bed as he left.

_You. Will. Be. Fine._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please, please, please don't steal these characters, they are part of a larger project that I have been working on for a while, thank you.


End file.
